i.

                    An old lonesome mirror stands there,
                    in the middle of an
                    abandoned room;
                    existing in a domain where
                    the silence sings of sorrow.
                    And staring inside through the transparent wall
                    I see a shadow brought to life,
                    the same shadow that follows me in the dark,
                    now fades into my reflection.

                    And as my finger tips touch the glass,
                    the silhouette moves away;
                    as if ashamed of
                    it’s manifestation,
                    breathing in this realm.

ii.

                    Since then in every mirror I’d pass,
                    I would search and see my eyes;
                    none obscuring
                    the shallow depths,
                    that the old mirror refused
                    to reflect.

                    But after hence, that wicked dream,
                    My mind was cruelly wrecked,
                    it kept wandering into
                    that abandoned room
                    where the old mirror was kept.